Lies Of The Missing
by Lazerwolf314
Summary: A year ago, her life crashed around her in seconds and she was forced to do the only thing she could to protect the ones she loved; she ran. Now Andy's back and is struggling to deal with the fallout of her choice. On Hiatus and pending a total ReVamp.
1. Prologue

_Recently I got interested in Rookie Blue fanfiction and started writing. This is my first stab at it, so please let me know how I did. Enjoy. :)_

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Rookie Blue._

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><p><strong><em>PROLOGUE<em>**

The beginning of the end started with a letter. Andy had finally settled into a rhythm with work, slowly becoming more and more confident at the job. She had gotten herself moved back into her old apartment, leaving behind Luke and all the memories that the place contained. Things with Sam were different, but not in a bad way and she was finally getting use to her life.

Then things crashed down in a span of six seconds.

A plain white envelope marked only with her name and address had arrived at her door early Thursday morning, a few minutes before she was about to leave for her shift. At first, she hadn't noticed it when she had been stepping outside to go, but when she started to lock the door, the shape caught her eye.

She had gone back inside, making sure she would still have time to get to the station and opened the letter. All it held was twelve simple words, but the message had made her mind go completely blank.

_Andy, they know who you are and they are coming. Run. ~ JD._

Time lost meaning as she read the words over and over again, trying to convince herself it was a joke. Some sort of sick prank. But the rational side of her brain knew full well that this was the truth. Because no one had any idea of what her past held and only one person wrote in that familiar loopy scrawl.

Slowly, as she sat there, Andy was lost, replaced by who she had been as a teenager. She began to move mechanically after that, not putting much thought into what she did. Putting clothing and other essentials into a duffle bag, finding her old passport which had been carefully hidden in the wall, speaking to her landlord, turning off the power to her apartment and lastly, writing Sam a message.

The final part was by far the most painful, but she allowed herself to feel nothing as she wrote. The words seemed vile to her, every second wishing that this was different and that she would be fine. But she knew better.

Locking her door started the process of her heart tearing to shreds. As she drove, she idly wondered if anyone had noticed she was missing yet. She was already an hour late and parade had been finished long ago. Glancing at her phone, she noted that there were five missed messages. Most were from Sam. The other was from Traci.

Pulling into Fifteen's lot, Andy could feel the tears rising and threatening to swamp her, but she held onto her control with an iron fist. As she watched, slouched behind the wheel, she saw her friends; her family make their way to their cruisers one by one. Traci, Dov, Chris, Gail and finally, Sam. There was a worried air about them all, probably thanks to her, but not one of them noticed her as they pulled out of the lot.

Rushing into the station, she kept her head down and pointedly avoided anyone's looks. She made her way straight to the locker rooms; men's to be specific. She peered around the door to make sure it was empty before sneaking in and stopping in front of his locker. Moving slowly, she withdrew the folded letter from her pocket and stared at it for a long time. Then she gently slipped it through the crack at the top and hurried out of the room.

By the time she made it back to the parking lot, Andy had hit a dead run. She leapt into the car and screeched out of the lot, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and the precinct before she broke. The tears ran hot and fast down her cheeks as Andy McNally died and Amy Drafton was born.


	2. Chapter 1

_Thanks to the overwhelming response I got from the prologue, I managed to get this out much sooner than anticipated. Okay, first off, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! What you say spurs me on and I'm glad you liked it. :) I must mention that this is mainly a chapter that will be used to bridge everything together so that I can jump right into the real stuff next. It's only here to help you get an idea of what has happened while Andy has been missing. So, please let me know how I did and what you think. I promise that there shall be more in the following chapter!_

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Rookie Blue._

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><p><strong><em>CHAPTER 1<em>**

Sam Swarek was empty. Sure, he walked like Sam, talked like Sam, moved like Sam, but he simply wasn't _Sam_ anymore. There was a large hollow place in his heart and nothing he did seemed to fill it. All because of Andy McNally. He hadn't really realized it until too late that she had become his spark, giving him the ability to smile and laugh. She had broken down his walls and let the real Sam out of the shell he had created undercover. And now she was gone.

As he did every morning for the past 372 days, he rolled out of bed and stood, staring down at the letter on his nightstand. The paper had long since become fragile and tattered from his constant folding and unfolding and the ink had started to smudge, but the words on it were burned into his memory. And as he had done 753 times, he picked it up and read it again.

_Sam,_

_I'm so sorry for this. You have no idea how much it hurts me to leave this for you. If there had been any other way, please know that I wouldn't have chosen this. I know you have no reason to trust me now, and I fully understand that, but you have to know that I never wanted to hurt you. Please, don't look for me. I have to do this; it's the only way to keep every safe. Maybe one day I will be able to face you and explain everything. I will understand perfectly if you hate me. There are so many things I am sorry for. So many things I wish I could've changed. But the thing I am most sorry for is that I never got the chance to tell you I love you._

_~ Andy_

Moving mechanically, Sam got ready for the day before refolding the letter and placing it delicately in his jacket pocket. He carried with it everywhere, as it was his only solid reminder of her. The process of arriving at the precinct and getting ready for patrol was the same blur it had been for over a year now. The spark that he looked forward to was long gone, leaving him with nothing but a now seemingly useless routine.

Parade passed by in its usual blur, resulting in him being paired with Epstien. All the rookies had drawn closer together after _she _had disappeared, becoming a solid unit in themselves. Sam himself had been halfway accepted into their group when they realized just what an impact her leaving had left on him, but he had shut himself down, turning into a cold shadow of the man he had been. After some time, they had noted this and had simply reverted to being terrified of him. Andy was the only one of the rookies that hadn't been.

Thankfully, Epstien had learned how to keep his mouth shut and tone down his need to help everyone after spending quite a few patrols with Sam. Today was no different, as they rode in silence through the darker part of town. The junkies would scurry away as soon as the white, red and blue cruiser slid into their view, hiding their score and bolting. The thugs would stand in groups and watch them with empty eyes and the prostitutes would slink away into alley ways. Sam had grown to have a grudging relationship with the people around here. They avoided him, he avoided them. He came out here when he needed something to help him feel remotely alive again. And he didn't give a damn if he made the rookies piss themselves when he came out here.

It wasn't very often that anyone other than Shaw or Noelle would ride with him now. They were the only ones who could tolerate his surliness and anger. Unfortunately for Dov, both had been drawn away by a major accident, leaving him defenseless and alone with Swarek.

The day was uneventful and long, even with their trip through the slums. The shift finished the same as all the others, leaving Sam alone in the locker room staring at his locker. The metal was now bent horribly, having taken the brunt of his anger when he first saw the letter taped to it.

He could still remember every instant of that day, every emotion, thought and fear. When McNally hadn't shown up for shift, he had been a bit annoyed as he had been left to ride with Diaz, but nothing more than that. During the patrol, they had been faced with a double murder and that had shoved all worry from his mind. But upon return to the precinct, he had seen that pale rectangle with his name written on it and his heart stopped.

He has read it, refused to believe that she was gone and raced to find Nash. Apparently, no one had heard a word from her since the night before. Not one whisper that something was amiss. He had gone to her apartment, followed by the rookies and busted it open when he wasn't answered. What they found had affirmed everything the message had said, making his mind go empty and blank. There was nothing. Everything was gone.

A sharp knock at the door of the locker room jerked him from his thoughts, the same ones he had been analyzing for a year now. "Swarek, Parade room now. No questions." Best ordered, turning away before Sam could ask what was going on.


	3. Chapter 2

_Okay, today I have a bit more action along with more of the ground work for the story. It's the beginning of the real stuff, and shall give you some more hints as to what's been happening the past year. It's a little short as I firmly believe I had to cut it where I did. Elsewise, it wouldn't be fun :D I'm sorry if this came out a bit forced or shaky, as I couldn't really think of how a raid would go… Anyway, I hope it was at least decent. Thank you so much to all the reviews and faves; they make my day. The response to this fic astounded me as well. You guys are all truly amazing._

_Reviews make the day brighter and chapters come faster. :)_

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Rookie Blue._

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><p><em><strong>CHAPTER TWO<strong>_

Sam slipped silently into the back of the Parade and found it packed with uniforms, detective and some off-duty officers as well. He noted the rookies in their street clothes huddled in the corner, faces covered with a mix of anxiety and excitement. The confusion was mounting as he wondered what was going on. The place was packed, nearly overflowing with people and just as he was about to ask what was going on, he spotted Boyko at the front of the room, flanked by Best. This was serious if Boyko was here.

"Alright, settle people!" Boyko called, his voice rising easily over the clamour. The noise dropped instantly as everyone turned to face him.

Nodding, he continued. "Thank you. I'm sorry to have dragged you here on such short notice, but we don't have that much time. We have finally compiled enough evidence against the Raygan's, that we can issue a warrant for their arrest."

"As you all know, for three years, the Raygan's have suspected as the top dealers of every hard drug imaginable throughout the city. They are the top dogs, with feeders out into places as far as Montreal. We had nothing solid to tag them with; at least until now. But what we've recently uncovered is that they also deal with human trafficking. We've received word from a reliable source that they are going to be doing a deal tonight, at their warehouse on the pier. They've smuggled women in from Mexico and will be selling to the highest bidder." Boyko's voice was tinged with disgust and many of the younger officers looked horrified.

Stepping forward, Best took over. "So, time is of the essence. They are moving the women tonight after the deal is done." He nodded to two photos on the board; surveillance shots of the Raygan brothers. "According to our source, both Scott and Mike will be there, along with their lieutenant, who goes simply by Dragon. The problem is, no one has been able to ascertain the name of Dragon, nor any shots of her. All we have to go on is a general description. Medium height, grey eyes, black hair and slim."

"Dragon is a her?" Dov demanded, his voice filled with shock.

"Yes Epstien. Which is why you all need to keep careful watch for her. All we do know is that she made her way up through the ranks fast, appearing in the organization little over a year ago. She's just as ruthless as the brothers, and just a dangerous." Boyko continued. He then began to go over the positions and the layout of how the takedown would go.

Sam simply felt empty as he stood in silence. A year ago, the thought of being part of such a huge takedown would have thrilled him, would have had him pacing in excitement and pumped on adrenalin. But now the idea of enjoying this was foreign. All the life had been sucked from as soon as he had found that damn letter.

The teams were divided quickly and Sam found himself in the entry team along with Callaghan. This brought out a spark of surprise in him. Ever since Andy's disappearance, the detective had blamed it on Sam, saying that he should have been a better partner and seen that something was wrong. What burned the most was that Luke had been right and due to that one simple fact, Sam was never able to retaliate. He should have seen it, should have stopped her from leaving.

The drive in the S.W.A.T van was passed in a blur. Sam had retreated to the place in his mind that he went every time he began questioning himself and what had happened. Around him, the excitement was coming off the detectives and uniforms in waves, rising in the all-consuming way that ran hand in hand with the danger of the raid. Sam simply had his eyes closed and let his body rock with the movements of the truck, feeling nothing but the every-present loss and sadness.

Upon arrival, he was tossed a vest that he could only look at for the longest time. When he name was hissed, he quickly got it on and followed whatever directions where thrown at him like a robot. He had no interest in what was going on around him as cops started to swarm the debilitated building; he just followed along with his weapon raised.

The sound of doors breaking and voices yelling, blurred together as team after team rushed the building but the sharp burst of gunfire snapped Sam to attention as they raced toward the back; where the deal seemed to be taking place. People in black where rushing behind whatever cover they could find and drawing their weapons.

It was chaos.

The police responded instantly with their own hail of shots and Sam saw three of the dealers fall. From what he could see, only four others were left… no. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a smaller black shape race through the shadows along the wall, clearly heading for the ladder that would lead to the level above.

Looking around, Sam saw that no one else had seen the figure; they were too busy dealing with the fire they were taking. So he broke off from his group and pounded his way toward the figure, who had just made it to the bottom of the ladder. Not bothering with orders to stop, he kept running, only meters away. He reached to bottom of the ladder just as the person made it over the top and vanished from his sight.

As he clambered upwards, he felt his blood begin to pump in a way he hadn't felt for a long time now. It felt… good. He pulled himself over the top of the ledge and jumped to his feet, rapidly scanning for the figure. A flicker near the windows drew his attention and he raised his weapon, approaching slowly. The person was masked expertly in the shadows, back toward the wall as they tried to back further away from him.

"Police, stop where you are. Hands where I can see them!" He growled, anger snapping at the back of his throat. The shape froze.

"Step towards me. Slowly!" There was a long pause, before there was movement forward. It seemed hesitant and skittish almost. Unable to dwell on it for the time being, Sam took one cautious step forward. The persons face was bowed and masked by their hood, making it was impossible to identify them.

"Show me your face!" He ordered. The head lifted slowly and Sam found himself face to face with startling grey eyes that didn't belong on that face.


	4. Chapter 3

_I have some sad news for everyone. School is about to get started, which means I won't have as much time to write as I have had. So, I will not be able to this update as often as I have been. :( But don't worry, I know where this is going and promise not to forget this fic. An overall note for this chapter is that, I don't like it. The problem I have is that I know exactly what I want to do with this story, including how it goes, but I mostly have the middle fleshed out. It's the stuff leading up to where I want to go is the problem… _

_Anyway, thank you guys again and again for your amazing reviews and kind words! They keep me going. :)_

_Reviews make the day brighter and the chapters come faster._

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Rookie Blue._

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><p>"Andy?" Sam's voice broke as he stared into her face. Her eyes where cold and empty as they regarded him, but he could have sworn he saw uncertainty and pain within their depths. The grey was wrong in her face, making it darker then he had ever seen. He couldn't see the rest of her; it was hidden by the black sweater and skinny jeans, but from what he could tell, this person was far from the woman he loved.<p>

She eyed the gun that was now wavering in his hands with a look of dispassion. "Andy's dead." She hissed, her voice sounding surprisingly broken to his ears. At first he could not react; all that he could do was stand there and let her scent and voice wash over him.

He simply couldn't believe it. Here she was, standing in front of him. Real and not some hallucination. Living and breathing and watching with those clever eyes. The silver that didn't belong to her. That didn't go with the black and spiky hair. Slowly, it dawned on him. Even as he took a stunned step back, horror was worming its way through his system.

"How could you?" He asked in a strangled whispered. He thought he saw a glimmer of guilt flash across her face, but it was quickly lost as her features hardened. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a shout from behind Sam. Her eyes shifted, breaking contact from his and leaving him weak and drained, to focus on something over his shoulder.

A sneer twisted her lips and a nearly animalistic growl rose in her throat. She pressed herself even farther to the wall just as more voices sounded from near the ledge. The thump of footsteps signalled the arrival of quite a few people, all with guns raised and shouts for Andy to stay put. Sam was still frozen in place, unable to move as he continued to stare at her. Their eyes locked for one last time, before she ducked her head, masking her face in the shadows.

"We got her! Dragon is secure." One of the detectives announced into his radio and a small cheer rose throughout the warehouse. Someone forced his way past Sam, giving him a small pat in congratulations as he spun Andy around and cuffed her. In his numb state, all he could do was nod, still stuck in his thoughts. Silver eyes met his once again as she was frog marched past him and something dark glinted within their depths. Something dark and sad.

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><p>Struggling valiantly against the hold some detective had on her, Amy Drafton fought every step of the way down the rickety stairs the police had finally spotted. Her hood was still up, hiding her face from every person they passed, including Traci, Chris, Gail and Dov. It was one thing she was grateful for.<p>

Remembering Sam's haunted eyes, a sad sigh was ripped from her throat, causing the detective leading her to jerk roughly on the metal cuffs. The cool silver bit into her wrist, tearing at the skin and earning a soft hiss to emanate from her. The detective merely snorted and continued on his way through the massive building. As they passed where the deal had been about to go down, Amy caught sight of a large crimson puddle staining the grey floor. In the center of it lay Mike, his dead eyes staring at nothing. Seeing one of the men that had protected and respected her for the past year pulled a small shot of sadness from her heart, but it was quickly smothered. Dragon showed no weakness.

Still unrecognized by most of the police, Amy found herself outside and headed toward a cruiser. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted another cruiser being guarded by a uniform. Peering through the back, she noted with small amount of relief, that Scott was alive. And furious. When he spotted her passing, their eyes locked and unspoken words were passed between the two. Then he nodded and settled back.

Shoved into the back of the car and ignored, Amy was left alone in her thoughts. She had no doubt that she would soon be identified, if not by Sam, then by anyone who happened to get a good look under the black hood. She also knew that as soon as that happened, her time would be limited. Even more then it was now.

Swearing viciously to herself, she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes, the dark fabric that covered her face slipping away. The contacts had started to itch, but she studiously ignored it, not as though she could do anything about it anyway. Her mind began to wander as she tried to think of any way out of this mess. The weight of the chain around her neck reminded her that she did have one option, but that way meant nearly certain death; either by the Raygan's gang or the men from her childhood.

The cruiser shook slightly as the driver's door was opened and slammed forcefully shut. Amy didn't bother to acknowledge who it was but was forced to blink in surprise when the other door opened and someone she knew very well slid in. Slouching lower, she tried to become invisible as Luke turned around to peer at her. The hood only covered her partially now and all she had to do was look up and be recognized.

"Is this Dragon, Rytofski?" He asked the other detective as they pulled out of the lot. "She doesn't look it."

"Oh, it is. She fought like a wildcat to free herself. Plus, she matches the description to the letter." Rytofski answered. Amy felt like growling at him. The longer they drove, the more the resolve built in her and the more Andy fought to surface. But Amy couldn't allow that so she forced Andy deeper to the back of her mind and became Dragon more than she ever had before.

She felt Luke's gaze continue to scrutinize her and she rolled her shoulders as if preparing for combat. Then she lifted her head and lunged forward, stopping just short of slamming her face off the metal grill. When Luke jerked back as if stung, she sat back, having gotten what she wanted.

"Andy?" He asked, his voice breaking and causing the other detective to whip around and stare.

"No. Andy died a long time ago." She murmured, closing her eyes again and blocking out anything but her thoughts, leaving the two detectvies stunned into silence.


	5. Chapter 4

_Little filler chapter here for you. From now on, there shall be much more of Sam and Andy interacting. I hope you all enjoy and I thank everyone who has stuck with this so far. I promise it gets much better and will hold future McSwarek (who ever dubbed them that, you deserve a reward!) I do have to admit that I was a little disappointed by the response to the last chapter… _

_And for all of you following Fracture Lines, I must say your support is outstanding. But both fics may end up on the backburner of my mind for a while (I haven't decided yet) as I return to school and lose most of my writing time. Anyway, enjoy!_

_Reviews make the day brighter and chapters come faster._

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Rookie Blue._

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><p><strong><em>CHAPTER 4<em>**

Booking was a tense affair. To say the least.

Dragged into the precinct, Amy fought every step of the way, valiantly trying to get the detective to loosen his hold on her cuffs, but to no avail. He held on firmly, even going so far as to tighten them to a nearly impossible level. Which in turn caused her to hiss at him every step of the way.

As they patted her down and removed everything in her pockets, officers kept trying to make their way inside. Luke blocked the door, but it didn't stop them from peeking through the window in hopes to see her. To see who she had become.

Eventually she was pushed through the precinct and shoved into an interrogation room. Luke removed the cuffs in silence, without bothering to acknowledge her and left, locking the door firmly behind it. She glared at the cold metal.

Making a slow circuit of the room, she was unsurprised to see it was exactly the same as a year ago. Not one thing had changed. It was odd how she had just found her constant in the place were cops broke criminals. That thought caused a wry snort to bubble through her lips.

Finally, she stopped in front of the mirror. If she had to guess, it was packed on the other side of the glass, filled with everyone cop she had known and known her. Allowing herself one moment of weakness, she lifted a hand and pressed it to the cool surface before resting her forehead on it as well. Closing her eyes, she could've sworn she heard gasps from the other side.

She was very likely imagining things.

She rested like that for a long time, slowly counting off the time in her head. From the lack of response from anyone, she was guessing that they were leaving her there to stew. Either that or they were trying to figure out what to do with her. She was thinking it was more of the latter. It was to be expected.

A sudden click behind her had her jolting away from the mirror, leaving nothing but a smudge behind. Leaning against it, she resumed her demeanor and sneered as Boyko entered the room. He simply looked at her for a few seconds and then gestured wordlessly to sit down. She did, surprising herself as she did so. The razor retorts she had been developing died on her lips as she met Boyko's gaze and she just sat and regarded him.

"Well McNally. It seems you've managed to land yourself in a bit of a mess. Care to tell me about it?" His voice held nothing but genuine concern and kindness. And she found some of her walls breaking. Damn, she knew this would happen as soon as she was faced with anyone who had ever cared for her. Which was why she had tried like hell to build up protective actions and walls over the past year, so as to not break completely. It seemed to have failed.

In a broken whisper, she averted her gaze and murmured, "I can't."

The older man leaned across the table and covered a hand in hers. "It can't be as bad as you think it is. Did you know that I had to have Swarek physically restrained so he wouldn't burst in here?" He asked, effectively switching topics. He was rewarded with her eyes returning to meet his. And try as he might, he couldn't help but feel his skin crawl when he saw the cold grey in the place of the once warm brown.

Noting his discomfort, she sat back and pulled her hand from under his. Cocking her head, she studied him for a moment. Suddenly, she reached a decision and reached behind her neck to unclasp the thick gold chain. The metal links pooled in her hand as she studied to small star shaped pendant that hung from it. Shifting forward, she held it out to Boyko and he took it slowly, curiosity etched into the lines around his eyes.

"That holds everything you need to know. And because I gave it to you, I probably won't survive. Scott is going to be pissed." With a sad smile, she broke eye contact and gently rested her head on the table, the weight she had been carrying for so long now vanishing in seconds.

While she had probably just sealed her death warrant, everything she had just given to Boyko could effectively shut down the human trafficking going in and out of the city and cripple it as a whole for a long time. And that was enough of a reward for her. She was just so exhausted from all of the drugs, death and pain that had become part of her life. She just wished she could sleep.

Boyko made a sound as if he was about to speak, but then stood and left, leaving her alone to think. But after a few moments, she felt herself letting go and drifted to the oblivion of slumber.


	6. Chapter 5

_-Eye twitches spastically- I have been up waaaay to long. This chapter just didn't come out the way I wanted, no matter the fact I went back and edited it at least four times. But, it goes in the way it should… So, I hope you enjoy. :) And thank you so much for your continued support. _

_Reviews make the day brighter and chapters come faster. _

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Rookie Blue._

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><p><strong><em>CHAPTER FIVE<em>**

The first thing Boyko did was gather all of the key personnel involved in the case, including Sam, and gathered them all in the briefing room. He gestured for them to all sit, before inserting the gold thumb drive into the computer and bringing up the images on the projector. There was a collective gasp as everyone stared at the information on the screen.

File after file on every drug runner in the city, complete with photos and valid proof, were carefully organized into different places with their own codenames. Pictures, so many pictures, of drug deals, trafficking deals, and there was also information on several key players in the human dealing business. There was enough compiled to nearly wipeout all of the large illegals dealers in the city. It was stunning how much was in one place, more than any detective could hope for. And it all been gathered in a little over a year.

Sam stood, mouth agape, at the back of the room, completely stunned by what was before him. So this was what she had been doing. She had successfully given the police as much intel they could ever wish for. But at what cost? And why had she been out there in the first place?

Frowning, Sam silently slipped out the back, leaving the rest of the officers nearly drooling at what Andy had given them. He made his way through the halls in a rush, avoiding any eye contact as he headed toward the interview room she was held in.

He slipped in silently, shutting the door gently and turning, intent on asking questions, only to find himself staring down at her still form. Her head was resting against the table, one pale hand splayed next to her nose. The dark hood had slipped back, revealing the rest of her hair and neck and her face was slack in sleep. The wariness he had seen in the warehouse was gone, replaced by the peace sleep brought.

Just as he took a step toward her, her head shot up, grey eyes meeting his with the force of a punch. She gazed at him unblinkingly as she slowly straightened and rolled her shoulders. Then she cocked an eyebrow and waited.

Sam found himself unable to think a single coherent sentence, so he quickly sat opposite her and simply let himself drink in the sight of her. She was alive, breathing, unharmed and in front of him, just as he had dreamed of for the past year. Watching as he watched her, Amy felt something that had been buried deep within her for such a long time, stir. It was faint, barely noticeable, but there. And she wasn't sure if she should be terrified or thrilled.

"What do you want Sam?" She asked, exhaustion and strain running through her tone.

Snapping out of his daze, he instantly recalled everything that had happened over the last year and felt his features harden in anger. "Where were you?" He demanded.

"Here, there, everywhere!" She replied flippantly, her own expression growing dark. "Why do you want to know?" She shot back.

"Because you just left! With no explanation, other than that damn letter!" He growled, exploding out of his chair and pacing around the room. His ferocity awakened the new instinct that had grown within her while she had been under.

"Do you really want to know why I did what I did?" She hissed, getting to her feet as well.

"Yes." Sam practically bit out the word as he glared at her.

"Because if I hadn't, if I had stayed, you'd be dead. And so would I."

Sam stared at her as if she had just slapped him. His mind couldn't wrap around what she had just said, even though it continued to echo in his ears. Taking the smallest of steps forward, he rested his hands on the table and whispered, "What?"

It was the tone that broke her defenses. It was filled with anger, loss, pain and sadness, something that was foreign to her when it came to Sam Swarek. The complete openness shattered the hard shell that had built up over time, causing her to drop back into the hard chair and look down. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me Sam. And so many more that you shouldn't know. What I can tell you is that, had I stayed, I would've been killed within a week. If lucky, maybe two."

Unable to look away from her averted eyes, he slowly lowered himself into his seat, taking time to think about what he was going to say. "Why couldn't you tell me?" He asked eventually, his voice wavering when he recognized that she had distrusted him.

"If I had, you would be killed as well." She glanced up cautiously. "I got a warning, telling me some people I knew from when I was younger were coming after me. It was on my doorstep the same morning I… left." A sad sigh escaped. "I knew it was time for me to move on."

"I could have protected you." He protested.

"No, not against these people. There's no one who can face them. All you can do is run." Silence reigned between the two of them for a long time. Then she spoke again. "Either way, it doesn't matter. Now that I gave Boyko my intel, once Scott finds out, Dragon will be killed. And if they don't get me, the people I ran from will."

She began to fiddle with her sleeves awkwardly when his dark eyes snapped to hers, fury burning in them. "Excuse me?"

"Face it Sam, the cop part of you knows the truth. I flipped on one of the biggest drug and human trafficking rings in the city. There is no way that the Raygan's will let me walk away from this without retribution. Even if they did, there's always the chance I'll be found. I'm a dead woman walking."


	7. Chapter 6

_I'm so sorry! I never meant for such a long gap to stretch between updates, but I just got caught up in a full work week followed by school. Don't worry, I have not forgotten any of my fics, despite how it seems. I promise that I will be back every once in a while. So, thank you to all who have been following along with this fic in particular, because it just seems to be coming out a bit wrong… But you guys are all amazing._

_An little note for this chapter: Well, this is a bit shorter than normal, but it is the tie for the following chapters. I just couldn't seem to get everything I wanted into this one, so I split it. Hope you all enjoy._

_Reviews make the day brighter and chapters come faster._

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Rookie Blue._

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><p><strong><em>CHAPTER SIX<em>**

_"Face it Sam, the cop part of you knows the truth. I flipped on one of the biggest drug and human trafficking rings in the city. There is no way that the Raygan's will let me walk away from this without retribution. Even if they did, there's always the chance I'll be found. I'm a dead woman walking."_

Those words echoed cruelly in his ears as all stared at her in horror. She simply offered him a weak smile before resting her head on her arms and looking off into space. His mind was working frantically to formulate a reply, to be able to say anything but he couldn't. He was choked.

The ease in which she had accepted her death astounded him. And terrified him to the core of his being at the same time. How could she be so goddamn calm? How was it possible to be fine with what she had just said? Didn't she know that if he lost her, just now after getting her back, it would destroy him?

Just as he was about to respond, the door to the interrogation room shot open. Boyko strode in, followed closely by Best and Jerry, who all had mixed emotions playing across their faces.

"Swarek, what are you doing in here?" Boyko demanded with an irritated sigh. He held up a hand when Sam began to open his mouth. "Never mind. Ms. McNally – excuse me – Drafton, you are free to go." Taking a step back, he held open the door for her like gentleman with his head bowed solemnly.

As she stood, Sam burst forward. "What are you doing? She can't just walk out of here; she'll be killed!"

"I'm sorry Sam, but this is what has to be done. Let me go." Andy murmured, softly, already making her way across the room. He reached out and grabbed her arm as she passed, pulling her close and putting her off balance. Leaning in close, he whispered dangerously, "If you think I'm going to let you just walk away to your death, you are sorely mistaken McNally."

"Let me go Sam. And Andy McNally died a year ago. Don't think you can save me now." Yanking her arm from his frozen grip, she stopped herself from glaring as pain was clearly etched on his face and it tore at her heart that she was the cause of this. But she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is what had to be done. This past year had dulled her to the atrocities of the world and, although a flame still burned within her, a cold wall had shuttered down over most of her emotions. She simply couldn't fully care anymore. Not about herself nor life. Not about Sam, the one man she had thought would be able to save her; even the fragmented image of him she had held inside her all this time.

Sam jerked away from her as if she had slapped him. Dark sadness swirled in the once dark depth of her eyes as she slowly turned and walked out of the door that Boyko continued to hold open. As his mind raced to analyze what he had seen, he was breaking, moving forward, trying to get through the door after her. Inside, he was being torn to pieces bit by bit as his one true nightmare was evolving in front of his eyes. Again.

But there was something in front of him, holding him back, keeping him from getting to her. It was his friends, his boss, all of them forcing him to stand as he was. They were speaking in some foreign language that couldn't seem to penetrate a sort of haze that was settling in front of his senses. Blocking him off from feeling.

Rage suddenly burst through the anger, a livid blackness flowing through his limbs as he stopped his struggle and stepped back. Keeping his voice level, he spoke softly. "Let me go. I'm fine. She's gone." Jerry eyed him for a long moment before releasing him, only to watch him turn and exit the opposite door.

Walking with stiff limbs, Sam found himself heading towards the workout room. When he pushed his way in, he found himself alone, which was probably for the best. He strapped on gloves rapidly, stepping up in front of the heavy weight punching bag that hung in the corner of the room. The beast that clawed within him rose and he began to attack. His sole focus was on beating the bag into submission, but it just kept swinging back to meet him, causing more and more anger to build up. This was what he wished he could do to whatever force had taken her from him in the first place, to kill whatever had caused her to run. He had seen terror in her eyes, only a brief flash, when she had spoken of being killed and it had never been in reference to the dealings she had been in this past year.

So, the only question that was fully comprehensive behind his wall of cold was, what had threatened her?

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><p>She only stopped moving when she was outside and over a block away from Fifteen Devision. Slumping against a nearby building, she felt the same hurt rush over her, just as it had done the last time she had walked away from the very same place. It ripped open all of the old wounds, bleeding them again, causing fresh pain. And she fully accepted that, once again, she deserved it.<p>

It wasn't until it was too late that she saw the gun being leveled at her head from across the street.


	8. Chapter 7

_Continued thanks to readers and reviewers alike._

_Enjoy._

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><p><em><strong>CHAPTER 7<strong>_

The shot sounded less than a second after she had let her legs collapse beneath her. The bullet bit into the brick building, exactly where her head had been the instant before, and sprayed out bits of shattered red stone. A shard glanced across her cheek as she dropped, burning a short line on her skin.

Rolling to the side, Amy managed to escape the second bullet as well, but wasn't so fortunate for the third. It struck her in the shoulder as she was turning, trying to get a good look at her attacker. A moan burst free before she could hold it in.

Reaching blindly for her own weapon at her ankle, she caught a glimpse of the man across the street bolting down the alleyway he had come from. Yanking the small gun from its holster, Amy staggered to her feet, wounded arm pressed tightly to her side, and rushed across the empty lane of asphalt.

Instantly, she was enveloped by the shadows of the two towering buildings. The air grew cool and the stench of rotting trash filled her nose. As she staggered down the alley, the sounds of running footsteps began to fade, signalling her attacker was getting further away. Growling weakly at her situation, she eventually stopped and leaned heavily against the nearest wall.

Closing her eyes and gasping for breath, her ears pricked when she heard the whine of sirens, informing her that police were on their way. And with her luck, _he _would be there. If not, then it would be Gail, Dove, Chris or Traci.

So, she continued down the dank passageway, her feet stuttering in stride against the wet stones. If she was correct, there was a Raygan safe house only a few blocks west. Knowing what state the gang would be in what with the death and capture of both leaders, she was fairly certain it was empty.

If she was lucky.

But there was no other option.

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><p>Time passed in a blur thanks to the blood loss and Amy didn't know if had taken her hours or only a few minutes to get to the safe house. And frankly, it really didn't matter.<p>

Stumbling up the three steps to the door, she reached blindly beneath the door frame, searching for the key. As her fingers struck cool metal, a gasp of relief escaped. She was close to being safe.

The door swung inwards on protesting hinges and she staggered inside. Moving as fast as possible in her injured state, she shut the door as silently as she could behind her before turning and moving deeper into the room.

This particular safe house was part of an apartment building the Raygan's owned. It was off the back and completely inaccessible from the other tenants; most weren't even aware it existed. The place was composed of three tiny rooms which included a stamp sized bathroom, a slightly larger bed room and a mediocre kitchen. There were some cans in the cupboard and water in the fridge, but that was about it.

Heading for the bathroom, Amy heard her footsteps squelch in the trail of ruby liquid she was leaving. The sound was muted and blurred, so, easily ignorable. Her weapon, grasped weakly in her wounded arms hand, clattered into the tub as her fingers finally went numb. Her other arm convulsed slightly against the open wound.

Dropping herself to the floor and leaning against the lip of the bathtub, her head flopped backwards limply. Curses jumbled in her head as the world did one more dizzying spin before going black.

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><p>Only a few seconds passed before she regained consciousness.<p>

But she had to fight for it.

Reaching under the sink, she pried weakly at the cupboard doors with her uninjured hand. They swung open after a brief protest, revealing a stack of toilette paper, some cleaning supplies and a first aid kit. Pulling the kit free from the low shelving, Amy propped it open against her outstretched legs and grabbed the first compress she found, clutching it tightly to the still flowing wound.

Because she was sitting and no longer in motion, the gush of blood had faded to a faint ooze, but had yet to stop.

Damn, it hurt. But she could push through the pain; she would push through it. She had to.

Fishing another gauze square and compress from the kit, she quickly swapped the now-blood-soaked one for the fresh ones, and was pleased to note that the bleeding had slowed a little more. Holding the patch in place with the injured arm (which was rather uncomfortable… scratch that; hurt like hell), Amy sought out the tiny pair of scissors she would need as well as a triangular strip of bedding for a sling.

Canting her upper body forward and hissing out a breath in shock, she maneuvered the little blades into place and began to cut at her shirt.

It was long, painful and sweaty work, but she was eventually able to peel the blood soaked top from her skin and toss it into the tub behind her.

Preparing to swap the gauze one more time, Amy took a second to peek over her shoulder. The bloody mess on her back was enough to tell her the bullet had gone straight through, which would save her trying to find a doctor that could take it out.

_One at a time D, one at a time._ She told herself as a greasy wave of pain and nausea rolled over her. Panting harshly with her eyes screwed shut, she waited until it had passed before tearing some medical tape into strips with her teeth and attaching it to the entrance wound.

She then followed the same procedure with the back, only with much more discomfort and twisting. Finally, she tied a half assed sling around her neck and snuck her arm in.

Once it was done, she allowed herself to flop back against the bath and breathe.

It occured to her she was going to have to thank Mike for teaching her field medicine. And then she remembered he was dead.

After a while, she struggled to her feet and swayed in the doorway. Waiting until the world stopped jerking beneath her feet, Amy simply stared at the bloody mess she had left on the floor. For some reason, it was supremely interesting and repulsing at the same time.

Another moment passed before she pushed off the doorframe and teetered down the hall, using the wall for balance.

She really wanted a shirt. It was imperative she found a shirt.

At least, that's what her pain filled, blood lacking brain was telling her.


End file.
